Santana's Wondrous World
by lunamoottthhhh
Summary: Glee/Harry Potter multi-chapter crossover. Santana goes to Hogwarts where she meets Brittany and their friendship eventually develops as they grow up.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: There have been so many Harry Potter/Britanna images and short stories popping up lately I thought I'd try out a longer more elaborate story. If people like this, then I'll keep writing. Enjoy:)**

Santana Lopez's palms were sweating. The dark Latina girl didn't normally get this nervous. Back home in Ohio she was known for her fearless and sometimes even cruel nature, but standing here in the massive Great Hall, looking up at the raggedy hat that would in moments declare what her future would look like for the next seven years… It was intimidating.

"Fabray, Quinn!" An elderly woman with a pinched face and a large pointed hat projected across the group of frightened first years.

They huddled even closer together, as though they thought they would be safer in a small pack. A girl with fair skin, golden hair, and a quivering smile wobbled up to the stool where the Sorting Hat sat complacently. 'Who had ever thought of this?' Santana wondered bitterly. 'A hat? What right did a hat, a hat that didn't even know her, have to judge her character in front of all these people?' She caught herself, it was a HAT of course it didn't know her!

"Ravenclaw!" The hat bellowed across the Great Hall.

The blonde girl, Fabray or whatever her name was, looked relieved and walked off towards the sea of blue and bronze that was the Ravenclaw table, decidedly less wobbly than before as the older students high-fived her and pulled her down to sit next to them. Santana rolled her eyes. Even as she stood there shaking with nerves, she thought it was ridiculous that these 16 and 17 year olds were even pretending to be interested in the miniscule children joining their house ranks. They were probably just sizing them up, deciding who would be the easiest to throw into a locker or something she thought ruefully. She had to catch herself again. This place probably didn't have lockers.

"Gryffindor!" the sorting hat nearly sang and a good-looking sandy haired boy grinned, removed the hat, and strode off to join the crowd of clapping Gryffindors.

Santana licked her lips, which were dry now.

"Jones, Abel!" the woman with the pointed hat read off.

Santana tried to remember the professor's name. McGervall… McGingel… it was something like that. She began to look around at the other first years surrounding her, less because she was interested, and more because she wanted to avoid thinking about how close to 'L' the list was getting. There was a boy standing next to her, tall and gangly but still attractive with dark hair and tan skin, who had turned a soft shade of green as he stared up at the stool with a terrified expression. Santana almost snorted. At least she wasn't as nervous as this kid. He caught her looking at him and winked before he returned his sickened gaze to the Sorting Hat, which was now resting over the eyes of a mousey looking boy whose feet didn't even touch the ground as he sat on the rickety stool. After glaring at the dark-haired boy's profile a little longer, Santana let her eyes continue to roam.

"Ravenclaw!"

She saw a group of boys eyeing two pretty girls who had their arms linked. They were both looking up at the hat with a strange type of reverence. Every now and then one of the boys would push another one towards the girls, who were either completely oblivious or just supremely unconcerned. Santana moved on and kept sweeping her eyes over her new classmates. She was used to how stupid boys could get around girls, especially pretty ones. Her gaze fell upon a slim blonde girl, standing slightly apart from the group. She didn't look out of place, more like she had wandered to that spot and was happy there, distanced slightly from the throng of frightened children besides her. The girl caught Santana's eye and smiled radiantly. She was very pretty with her golden curls falling around her shoulders. Santana automatically moved a hand to her own hair to make sure it was still nicely in place, blushed and looked away. She didn't like being caught staring at people.

"King, Josh!"

Santana swallowed. Suddenly she felt someone brush against her right side and looked up. The blonde girl who had smiled at her had come up behind her.

"Are you nervous?" the girl whispered in Santana's ear.

Normally Santana would have puffed up her chest and viciously shot down anyone who questioned her bravery. As she looked over at the blonde kindly smiling next to her though, she couldn't help but let out the breath she had just prepared for a slew of cutting words.

"Yeah, a little." She mumbled to the floor. She felt the girl take her hand and squeeze it softly. Santana stiffened. She never held hands with anyone, but after a few moments she relaxed a little. For some reason this girl's support was, well, comforting.

"I'm sure wherever the hat puts you, you'll be fine," the girl said softly. Santana merely nodded at her toes.

"I'm Brittany," the girl said, and for the first time since the girl had appeared at her side Santana looked up from her feet to the girl's, Brittany's, face.

"Santana," she replied.

The blonde girl didn't let go of the darker Latina's hand until the professor called out "Lopez, Santana!" Brittany gave Santana's hand a final little squeeze, and gently pushed her towards the stool.

The walk towards the Sorting Hat felt like it took an eternity. She could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on her as she finally took her seat. Her vision was promptly obscured as the hat was dropped onto her head and fell over her eyes. Santana thought it smelled like mothballs.

"Mothballs, eh?" She heard a small sly voice in her ear and nearly jumped. "I've heard worse you know… now what to do with you…' Santana was shaken by the hat's sudden insight into her private thoughts. "Let's see," the voice continued. "You're tough aren't you, like to do things alone..." This was less of a question than a statement, and Santana just bit her lip. She suddenly didn't feel very tough at all. "There's more to you than that though… Fiery. Definitely some bravery, some wit. But you're cunning, sometimes merciless even." The voice sounded genuinely interested. "You're hiding." Santana didn't like what the hat was saying. "You don't have to like it, but you might as well accept it. I can see things in you that you may not even see just yet." The hat grew complacent. "There's too much common sense here for Gryffindor, you won't be barging into the Department of Mysteries trying to save people that aren't even there." The hat chuckled at what was apparently supposed to be a joke, but Santana didn't understand it at all. She clenched the sides of the stool more tightly. "Ah, but Ravenclaw, no… Hm. Ahhhh." The hat let out with a sound of sudden comprehension. "Now make this your own, many forget the merits and the good qualities that can make up a SLYTHERIN!"

The last word was shouted to the Great Hall at large, and there was a chorus of cheering from the Slytherin table. Santana removed the hat and placed it on the stool, relieved that it was finally over. As she walked towards the clapping students she looked back for a second at the group of first years and with a quick pang saw Brittany at the front, smiling at her. The relief was suddenly knocked out of Santana and replaced with a sad feeling. She knew that wherever the blonde with the kind blue eyes was going, it definitely was not going to be Slytherin. She shook her head briskly as if to rid her mind of the thought. She didn't even know the girl. She'd make new friends. Mustering a smile she took her seat, and was quickly enveloped by a forest of silver and green.

Santana sat staring at the ceiling, the curtains from her four-poster casting dark, soothing shadows upon the wall in the faint candlelight. She could hear a girl sobbing quietly into her pillow in the bed next to hers. Santana wished the girl would stop. Had she never left her house before or something? She pulled the sheets up over her head, hoping to block out the noise but to no avail. She was surprised that she really didn't miss Ohio at all. She could barely even believe she was at Hogwarts. Without thinking, Santana began to replay the circumstances that had gotten her here over again in her head.

* * *

><p><em>She was walking home from another day of the fifth grade sporting a badly bloodied nose when she saw the envelope with her name written across it in curvy emerald green ink sitting on their doorstep. Paying no attention to the blood she was smearing across the letter she picked it up and read:<em>

_Ms. S. Lopez_

_The Front Doorstep_

_6294 Allentown Rd._

_Lima, Ohio 45801_

_Two minutes later Santana walked into her small house, setting her backpack down absent-mindedly on top of the pile of shoes and jackets next to her front door._

_"Mija, is that you?" came her mother's voice from the next room._

_"Si mama," Santana replied, kicking off her shoes, still clutching the letter in her hand._

_"Santana, necesito…" Santana's mother started to say,_

_"Si Mama, yo se," Santana yelled back, cutting the older woman off._

_She came out of the daze that had been brought on by the letter, and walked across their stained burgundy carpet to the kitchen where she reached up to a cabinet and brought down a bottle of bourbon from the top shelf. With a little effort she had twisted off the cap, and broken off the safety with her teeth. She spat out the plastic and the taste of the liquor and brought the bottle to the living room. Her mother sat on the couch in front of the TV, right where Santana had left her that morning. You could tell that Mrs. Lopez had once been very beautiful, but her radiance had been dulled by years laden with sadness and booze._

_"Here you go, Mama," said Santana, pouring some of the amber liquid into a glass next to her mother. She placed the nearly full bottle down on the coffee table, removing the empty one sitting there from the day before._

_"Gracias, mi nina," cooed Santana's mother thankfully, but upon looking up at her daughter's face her expression turned darker._

_"Tu nariz! What happened?" she asked with a thick Mexican accent. Santana had momentarily forgotten about her nose, but when her mother reminded her it began to throb again._

_"It's nothing, Mama, just some boys. It doesn't matter." She said, reaching up to cover that part of her face._

_"You KNOW I wish you wouldn't get into fights, Mija."_

_"Si Mama. Yo se." She smiled down at the older woman who was now sipping at the liquor Santana had brought her._

_"Bien," said her mother, and waved Santana away._

_Santana spent that entire night staring at the letter, the first ever addressed to her, wondering if the words could be real. Her older brother Matty had came home around eight from his factory job, and yelled across the house that he had dinner, but Santana had remained in her room. These people thought she was special. They wanted her to leave Ohio, to come to some school in England where they'd teach her… Magic. They said that SHE was magical. They said that they barely ever extended their hands across the ocean to America, but that she was an exception. Santana excitedly began thinking how she had noticed strange, almost magical, things happen around her before. She'd never put any store into them, but maybe… Even today, an entire group of seventh grade boys had cornered her outside the school in the beginnings of a thunderstorm, yelling something about her brother screwing over one of their fathers. She had panicked, and tried to run but one of the boys had caught her and thrown her up against a wall, bloodying her nose. She didn't know how, but as she was overcome by anger and fear a large bolt of lightning had struck only yards away and the boys had scattered. She had thought it was luck, but what if it wasn't? Santana suddenly felt guilty. What was she thinking? Her mother needed her. Matty needed her. She couldn't just leave. She tucked the letter under her pillow and went to sleep, her mind spinning._

* * *

><p>A loud snore next to her brought Santana back into the present and the small moonlit room where she had accidentally fallen into her own memories. The girl next to her had stopped crying, but was now breathing so loudly that Santana wouldn't have been surprised if the girl was gone and had been replaced by a large zoo animal. She honestly didn't know which was worse. She began to think about the night she'd just had. The gangly boy who had winked at her before they were sorted had taken a seat next to her on the Slytherin bench and introduced himself as Puck. Santana thought he had seemed much more confident, and she noticed he was much less green than before. She liked how forward he was, but when he had given her his name she merely raised one eyebrow at him and turned, leaving his silent question unanswered. Just because the sorting hat knew there was more to Santana than a tough exterior, that didn't mean the rest of the world had to. She was sure the five other girls in her dormitory were a little afraid of her, as they had given her the first choice of the beds, and seemed to skirt away when she walked by them. She still had it, thought Santana smugly. Just as she began to drift off to sleep, an image of Brittany, smiling hugely and dancing off to a cheering table, illuminated behind Santana's eyes. The word "Hufflepuff!" was piercing in Santana's ears. She was being stupid. Santana never had problems getting friends. That girl didn't matter. With that, Santana's heavily lashed eyes closed, and slowly her breathing became deep and regular.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_Santana could feel his scratchy face against her cheek. She felt his strong arms lift her up from the ground, and the warm air that played through her hair as he whispered that she was his angel and he would be back for her soon. Then he was gone. The door had shut. All the warmth seemed to have left the room with her father, leaving it cold and empty. Santana ran to her mother, a lone figure standing in the kitchen, watching through the window as Santana's father slowly disappeared into the distance. When the little girl wrapped her arms around her mother, sobbing quietly, Mrs. Lopez could only place a hand on her seven-year-old daughter's head, still watching the retreating figure as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She knew that Santana's father was not coming back soon. She knew that he would not be bursting into the house again as he'd promised, eyes sparkling, overjoyed to see his young, beautiful daughter running towards him and his wife smiling from the kitchen. This had been goodbye. Santana looked up into her mother's eyes and saw something there that she couldn't quite understand. Her father had left many times before, but he had always returned a few days later. Why was her mother looking so heartbroken? So lost? Her mother's eyes betrayed it all. Santana may have been young, but in that moment she understood that her father wasn't coming back. She began to cry even harder and pushed at the older woman, suddenly angry, and sprinted out the door. Mrs. Lopez watched her daughter run up the sidewalk, but her father's figure had already faded into the sunset. Santana continued to run, tears streaming down her face._

_"Papa!" she shouted into the darkening sky._

_"Papa! Papa! Papa!"_

_There was no response. Santana's father had always come when she called. She slumped to the ground exhausted, sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, clutching her knees to her chest as she continued to cry. She held her hand to her body, cradling a small golden ring in her palm. Santana's father had given it to her the day before, smiling as he had slid it onto her pointer finger. It was all she had left of him. Why would he leave her? HOW could he leave her?_

_When Santana returned to her house half an hour later, her tears had dried. Her eyes were puffy, and her mouth quivered, but she was done crying. Her father was gone, but she had decided that he must have had a good reason. She walked silently by her mother, who had opened her mouth as if to speak, but then Santana was past her, her bedroom door closing behind her. In that moment of silence, Santana was sure she heard a muffled sob from the hallway as her mother finally allowed herself to cry._

* * *

><p>"Papa?" Santana sat up in bed, and was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she had cried out to a room of sleeping pre-teen girls. One of them stirred slightly, but none of them seemed to have registered that Santana had shouted, or that she was even awake. Santana's embarrassment quickly turned to relief, which then morphed into anger. Why would she be dreaming about her father? It had been years now since the day she'd sat bawling on the pavement. She was over it, so why now? She let out a frustrated sigh, and quietly got out of bed, sliding into a pair of worn slippers. She softly padded across the dormitory, carefully closing the door behind herself before making her way up the stairs to the Slytherin common room. Normally Santana didn't mind the dungeons, but on this night she wished that she could have been somewhere closer to the night sky. The green tapestries and low hanging torches were no longer foreign. They'd become her home. This was her second year at Hogwarts, and she had found that late at night, the common room was a good place for her to gather her thoughts. She had never encountered anyone else there in those early morning hours, and so she jumped when a boy suddenly got up from one of the soft green armchairs by the fire.<p>

"I swear I'm going to bed, I was ju-, oh it's just you," he said quickly, relaxing as he recognized Santana's face in the flickering light.

"Hi Puck," Santana greeted.

She was surprised to see him here, but for some reason, on this night, his presence didn't bother her. Puck sank back down into the armchair, and Santana took the one across from him, making sure that there was still a chair between them. They sat there in comfortable silence for a long time, both lost in the fire and their own thoughts.

"Today's my mother's birthday," Puck suddenly said.

Santana started. She had almost forgotten that he was there.

"She would have been 39."

Santana opened her mouth to speak, but the 'Grow up,' or 'Get over it,' she was expecting to come out caught in her throat, and instead she just looked at him. Puck seemed just as surprised as Santana that she hadn't replied with something insolent or biting. They had built a type of friendship over that past year, but it stood mostly on pillars of coy words and blatant, witty teasing. Santana couldn't remember the last time she and Puck had discussed something other than the terrible Mohawk he'd gotten that Summer, or her skinny arms. She noticed Puck playing with a small necklace around his neck. It was a simple piece of jewelry, a small Celtic charm hanging from a silver chain.

"She gave that to you." Santana stated, and Puck merely nodded, looking more forlorn than she'd ever seen him.

She thought for a second, and then lifted her right hand, showing him the small golden ring she still wore on her pinky. Puck didn't speak, and Santana was glad. She wasn't sure why she was being so open all of a sudden, and she thought that if Puck had said something sappy or even tried to ask about her father, she might have smacked him over the head and returned to her dormitory. In that moment though, they both understood each other. They didn't speak for the rest of the night, and only when they heard the sounds of students getting out of bed below them did they finally get out of their chairs. Puck turned down towards the boys' dormitories.

"Lopez!" he said as he turned, signaling that this night, however comforting it may have been, was over, and that their friendship was back to normal.

"I'll see you in charms, mullet boy!" Santana snapped at his retreating figure.

"Not a mullet!" He called back to her, and though Santana couldn't see it, he smiled.

* * *

><p>"I just don't understand why that Berry girl would ever think it was alright to wear those terrible earrings! I mean, they're OWL claws!"<p>

Santana was walking across the grounds with two of the girls from her dormitory, heading to their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. One, a tall girl with wavy auburn hair called Jenn was ranting about her classmates' terrible fashion tastes, as usual. The second girl, Jade, who was smaller than both Jenn and Santana, had to trot every now and then to keep up with the two. She had shiny black hair and striking green eyes. Though she'd never admit it, Santana almost envied Jade's features. They were so beautiful. Santana supposed she could call these two her 'best friends,' but honestly, each of them was much more interested in maintaining their elevated social status than in genuine friendships with each other, and all three knew it.

"I know, but I think they're better than that terrible sweater she wore last week… You know, the one with the purple and orange puffballs? She would do well to take some lessons from you or San," replied Jade sympathetically, and Jenn smiled smugly.

"She almost reminds me of this weird house elf Puck told me used to live here. Apparently he ran around with like twenty hats and mismatching socks, you know? Then again, she might be a little weirder now that I think about it, I doubt the house elf would have suggested we all sing a song together to 'remember our basic potions,' " Santana contributed. The three of them laughed their way across the green at the oblivious Rachel Berry's expense.

Santana and her two friends had just barely contained their laughter when they joined their fellow classmates outside the cabin where they always had their lessons. A massive man wearing a large brown coat and bright smile was addressing the class through a frizzy mane of black beard and wild hair.

"… and then you grab the botruckle firmly, but not too firmly, you don't want to hurt him, and slowly stroke"

The three Slytherin girls burst out into renewed hysterics. A few of the Hufflepuffs they were sharing the lesson with glanced over at them disapprovingly, but the professor tried to ignore them and plowed on.

"They have very sharp fingers, and they'll cut you if they get a good swipe at ye' so you lot try to be careful. Alright?"

"Professor Hagrid, what exactly are we supposed to be doing with the botruckles?" asked a timid red-haired Hufflepuff girl, gesturing at the bucket containing the small, tree-like creatures.

"Oh! Well you feed them of course!" laughed Hagrid sounding bemused, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

He then turned their attention to a large bucket of what Santana though looked like maggots.

"Wood lice!" said Hagrid happily.

"We're supposed to TOUCH those disgusting things?" asked Jenn, sounding revolted.

"Aw come off it! They're just wood lice," said Hagrid, confused by his class's obvious lack of enthusiasm. "Completely harmless!"

"I'll do it, Hagrid!"

A blonde Hufflepuff girl had lightly bounded forward and was standing next to Hagrid, beaming up at him.

"Come on everyone, take a leaf out of Brittany's book and get excited! These are interesting creatures!" Hagrid said, looking down at Brittany with obvious affection.

"Now THAT'll be the day," snorted a thoroughly unimpressed Jenn. "That girl gets way too excited about anything. She'd probably do one of those ridiculous dances if she found a knut in the corridor."

"You know, I did hear she was really poor" chimed in Jade.

"That would explain a lot," sneered Jenn as the class moved up towards the table.

"I haven't heard anything like that," snapped Santana.

Santana wasn't sure why, but hearing both of them mocking the girl who had been so kind to her that first night at Hogwarts had quickly made the blood rise to her head. Her two friends also noticed the change, and dropped it, exchanging confused looks with one another. Santana was immediately embarrassed. The Brittany girl was no different than the Berry girl, or any of the others she made fun of on a daily basis. Santana hadn't even spoken to her outside of a few polite sentences like 'could you pass the powdered dragon claw' or 'why does Professor Sprout think it's alright to never shower?' since the night she'd been sorted. Who cared? She angrily snatched up one of the botruckles, which immediately sliced her with one of its long, root-like limbs. Santanaa swore loudly.

The same red haired girl who had asked Hagrid a question earlier giggled, and whispered something to her friend about how Santana wouldn't have been cut if she'd just listened before. Santana turned, sucking her cut thumb, narrowing her eyes and opening her mouth to retort when Brittany stepped right between her and the whispering girl.

"Hi!" She said brightly. "Do you remember me?"

Of course Santana remembered her. What a stupid question.

"Of cour- I mean, yeah, we met at the sorting right?"

"Exactly!" Brittany beamed. "My normal partner got really sick, and my horoscope told me I should stay away from the color yellow today," she said, eyeing the Hufflepuffs suspiciously.

"So do you want to be my partner today?"

Brittany clearly took Santana's slightly ajar mouth as a yes, and grabbed her arm, leading her towards the bucket of wood lice. Santana looked back towards Jenn and Jade, who were both watching the interaction. They looked confused and suspicious. Santana was momentarily worried, but then decided she didn't care and followed Brittany.

"I think you're hurting him," Brittany giggled once they were settled in a patch of grass with a handful of woodlice between them.

"So?" Asked Santana, before she could catch herself. "I mean…"

Brittany frowned a little.

"He's still a creature, he can feel things, you know."

Santana was about to say that he was more of a plant, or a root than a 'creature' but when she looked at Brittany's concerned face she thought better of it, and set the botruckle down.

"Sorry," she said, but the blonde girl was already preoccupied trying to get the botruckle to eat.

"I have a cat at home, but he never has problems eating. He mostly eats human food," mused Brittany as she nudged some wood lice closer towards what Santana had decided looked like a small, gnarled tree-man. He ignored the girl's efforts and glared at Santana. "His name is Lord Tubbington."

Santana didn't know what to say, so she just watched Brittany as she continued determinedly pushing wood lice towards the botruckle, all the while telling him he was being rude and that he should stop being so stubborn.

"Can you meet me tonight at eleven?"

Brittany's forward question had caught Santana completely off guard.

"What?"

"Tonight. Can you come? I want to show you something."

"But, why?" asked Santana.

"It's a surprise!" said Brittany with a grin as she bent to pick up the wood lice.

Santana stood also, and swept up the botruckle in one smooth motion.

"I really don't think I- OW!" Santana yelped as the creature bit her hand. She scowled.

"Meet me at the portrait of the alligator eating watermelon on the third floor, just be careful not to get caught," Brittany advised.

She looked at Santana's bleeding hand and seemed to reflect a little before saying, "He's really not very nice is he?" She bent down to the botruckle. "You should be nicer to Santana," and with that Brittany skipped away to walk besides a Hufflepuff boy Santana thought was called Finn.

Santana was still in a state of mild shock when Jenn and Jade appeared at her sides. Jenn opened her mouth to speak, but the look Santana threw her made her close it again promptly. Santana was still the leader, if she wanted to be friends with the blonde Hufflepuff girl, then she could be. They didn't speak for the entire walk up to the castle.

* * *

><p>Santana waited until she heard deep, even breathing from every bed in her dormitory before she silently slipped out of her own, fully clothed. What are you doing? She asked herself as she made her way through the Slytherin common room, but she kept walking. She stepped across the worn green carpet and out of the common room. Santana watched the passage behind her quickly change back into a damp stone, wall, and set out up the steps towards the third floor. Everywhere around her Santana thought she heard footsteps, or small animals scurrying. By the time she had nearly reached the portrait of the sly looking alligator gnawing a piece of ripe melon, Santana was beginning to regret ever getting out of bed to begin with.<p>

"Psst! Santana!" A voice whispered from the shadows, and before the Latina could even respond, a long slender arm had reached out and pulled Santana back into the darkness with her. "I knew you'd come!" beamed Brittany.

"Well yeah, I… What did you want to show me?" Santana whispered back.

"Follow me!" and Brittany took Santana's hand and began to run back down the stairs.

They were sprinting through the corridors, laughing hard. Santana didn't know why she was laughing, but Brittany had begun to giggle as they ran, and it was strangely infectious. They both stopped short as they turned a corner and saw a scrawny, skeletal cat sitting in a pool of moonlight. The mirth was suddenly gone from Santana, and she began to breathe more quickly.

"Brittany, isn't that-"

"Mrs. Norris!" Brittany happily said, nimbly walking over to the cat. It rubbed itself against Brittany's legs, purring as she reached down and stroked behind its ears.

Santana was dumbfounded. Wasn't this Filch's cat? The one that answered only to him? She had heard that running into Mrs. Norris in the dead of night was just as bad as colliding with the caretaker himself. Yet here was Brittany, completely unconcerned as the cat flopped onto its back and showed Brittany its tummy. Brittany obligingly scratched as the puzzled Santana came up besides her.

"Mrs. Norris isn't as bad as everyone thinks she is." Brittany stated, standing up straight again and looking down at the feline. "People just don't take the time to understand her."

With that, she had taken Santana's hand again and was leading her through the castle's twisted hallways. They stopped finally outside a door Santana had never noticed before. Brittany turned to face Santana, her hand resting on the door-knob.

"So I heard that you were going to try out for the Quidditch team," She began.

Santana was a little taken aback by Brittany's choice of subject, but answered none-the-less, "Yeah I was thinking about it… I mean I've never really played, but I was goalie back in Ohio so I thought I'd at least try."

Brittany grinned again, opened the door, and led Santana inside. They were standing in a massive room, its walls lined with torches and gleaming trophy cases. All around their heads there were bewitched golf balls flying and, Santana laughed, soccer balls.

"I was in here with Finn the other day and I saw this," said Brittany, steering Santana towards the back of the room towards an imposing glass case.

Behind its crystalline walls hundreds of awards and photos gleamed in the firelight. Brittany pointed to a faded picture of a Latina girl in green robes atop a broomstick, smiling and holding a bright red ball above her head as her teammates silently cried out in glee and her on the back.

"I thought that she looked like you." Said Brittany. "She's really pretty."

Santana blushed at Brittany's compliment. Many people had told her she was pretty, but it felt much more genuine coming from the blonde girl standing besides her.

"Anyways, it made me think about how I'd heard you were going to try out, and today when we were feeding the botruckle I got this idea…"

Santana chose not to remind Brittany of the fact that she really had not helped with the botruckle at all. Brittany was looking up at the ceiling now at all of the enchanted sports equipment circling their heads.

"So I asked Finn if he could get some of his older friends to enchant these, so that you could practice. I'm not very good at spells yet, but I would have done it myself if I could," Brittany continued excitedly. "You can take them outside with you! The soccer balls are enchanted to fly at the hoops and the golf balls fly around like snitches. I wasn't sure if you wanted to be a catcher or a keeper or a seeker, so I just asked them to enchant them both"

"Actually Brittany, I was going to try out to be a beater," said Santana, trying to look serious.

Brittany's face fell almost comically before Santana laughed out loud and told her she was only joking.

"So you like it?" Asked Brittany tentatively.

"I love it. Thank you."

Santana moved to hug Brittany, but suddenly felt awkward and just kind of brushed the girl's shoulder with her fist. Brittany didn't seem to mind Santana's strange gesture at all grinned at her. Santana couldn't help it, and grinned right back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews guys, they make writing a lot more fun:) I know that I'm taking this slow, but I think it will make it all the better when things really get started. This chapter is largely here to set up the rest of this fic and provide some transitions and information. I hope you enjoy!**

"It'll be fine, Brittany"

"But," Brittany sniffled, "We're always on the same side, and now I have to fight you."

"It's not fighting. It's Quidditch." Santana pointed out patiently, looking across the library table at her friend and forgetting to whisper as her voice rose slightly. A group of feverishly studying fifth years shot them angry looks from a few tables away.

"I thought that if I made the team, I'd just have to fight bad guys, not you!"

"Ssshhhh!" Madame Pince swept by them tutting disapprovingly.

The Latina glared after the ancient librarian, narrowing her eyes as the woman snatched a pack of Drewballs from an indignant Puck, who was sitting with a few boys in the corner. Santana had been watching him out of the corner of her eye as he absentmindedly popped the Drew balls into his mouth, staring shamelessly at a group of older Ravenclaw girls. She'd made a mental note to make fun of him for it later. Santana turned back to Brittany and started to say again that Quidditch was not fighting, but gave it up as futile and instead chuckled, "But I AM a 'bad guy.'"

Brittany looked up quickly and stared at Santana through watery eyes. "I don't know why everyone says that. You're awesome Santana. You're not a 'bad guy.'" She reflected. "You're a good guy! Like Peter Pan, or Shrek!"

"Yeah sure, except I'm way hotter than Shrek." Santana laughed.

Brittany pretended to think and shrugged, ducking as the girl across from her threw a well-aimed ball of parchment. When she reappeared from under the table she was grinning, and looked as though she'd almost forgotten that soon she was going to be competing against her best friend in a Quidditch match.

Santana couldn't ever really find the words to explain to Brittany that the reason most of their classmates at Hogwarts thought that Santana was such a bitch was because, frankly, she was. Sure, Brittany had seen the Latina get a little snappy with a few people, but as soon as Brittany gave the Latina a wide-eyed disapproving look, Santana almost always deflated. Brittany hadn't been around when Santana had reduced a fifth year to tears that morning because he'd been in her way, and she'd happened to notice his ridiculously short pants, or when she'd decked that Ravenclaw last year for saying Brittany was 'a little dim witted.' Brittany only really knew the softer side of Santana.

Santana looked over at the blonde girl, whose nose had scrunched a little as she tried to make sense of the assignment in front of her, wholly unaware that as she read, her quill was dripping large splotches of ink onto the fresh piece of parchment she had just pulled out of her bag. Santana gently guided Brittany's hand back towards the ink jar before pulling her own work towards her. Their third years' workload was dramatically greater than it had been the previous two years, and Santana knew she needed to finish the potions essay lying unwritten in front of her that night or else the next night's pile of homework would be nearly impossible. She couldn't seem to focus though, and soon her mind began to wander again. Whatever she told Brittany, Santana was a little worried about the Quidditch match they'd be playing on Saturday. When she had suggested earlier that year that Brittany try out for the Hufflepuff team, Santana hadn't actually expected her to do it. Now here Santana was, about to go head to head with the one person in the world whose demise, at the price of her gain, would give her no pleasure. Brittany had gotten pretty good on a broom their second year when she'd helped Santana prepare for Slytherin's keeper tryouts. Santana was always a little in awe of how gracefully and effortlessly the girl had been able to move through the air from the start. It was just natural for her. When Santana had gotten the spot, she couldn't help but give Brittany a little of the credit. Santana knew she was an incredible keeper and Brittany was honestly one of the best chasers she'd ever seen. Santana couldn't lose though, and she didn't want to see Brittany's face after Santana's team crushed Brittany's crew of puffballs. She sighed, knowing that no matter how much she overthought it, Saturday would come regardless, and began to write:

_'The primary uses of Phoenix tears in potion making are…'_

* * *

><p>Santana could nearly feel the crowd through the thin walls of the changing room, the cries and stomping feet and noisemakers blending together, rolling like thunder across the grounds. The adrenaline began to pump through her veins. She blithely remembered back to last year, her first match, when the roar of the onlookers and the pressure had nearly made her sick. Now she relished the attention, the chants of "Lopez Lopez Lopez!" that followed a particularly impressive save, and the way it felt to have all eyes on her. She came out of her reverie and came back into the present, where the Slytherin captain was finishing what sounded like a very heartfelt speech. The boy sitting closest to the enthusiastic captain was clearly making a valiant effort not to wipe away the flecks of foreign spit that were peppering his face.<p>

"….And don't forget, don't go easy on them just because they're Hufflepuffs! They may not be cunning or smart, or even brave, but some of them can play a hell of a game of Quidditch!"

Santana immediately found her self stiffen in response to the statement that Hufflepuffs couldn't be smart or brave. She clenched her jaw a little, thinking of Brittany, and was quickly horrified with herself. This was Quidditch. She wasn't going to let anyone, even her best friend, get in the way of her winning. With that she jumped off the bench and joined her teammates in their raucous yells as they stepped out onto the bright pitch in a flurry of green and silver, drinking in the crowd. She watched the captains shake hands, the grass moving slightly in the breeze, the determined face of each Hufflepuff, Brittany's hair blowing everywhere in the wind… and then the whistle had blown, and she kicked hard off the ground.

* * *

><p>"Uuuggghhh." Santana tried to sit up, but a throbbing pain in her temple pushed her back down. She opened her eyes into slits, and took in a bright room lined with blurry beds, as an even blurrier woman bustled around between them.<p>

"Ah, you're awake, dear!" The woman caught sight of Santana groggily attempting to make sense of her surroundings, and quickly moved to her side.

Santana was in too much pain and too confused to repromand the woman for calling her 'Dear,' and just asked weakly, "Where am I?" even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

"The hospital wing, of course! You took a nasty quaffle to the head!"

Santana had never heard of a quaffle ever really hitting any one, let alone putting a person in the hospital wing. Even in her state, Santana's face must have betrayed her confusion, for the nurse, as she seemed to be, continued to speak.

"Hardest shot I've ever seen in all my years, and more than a few professional players have passed through this school."

"Santana?" came a voice from across the room.

Santana thought she might know to whom the voice belonged, and wasn't entirely surprised when seconds later a mass of blonde hair had shrouded the bright lights and Brittany's strong arms were pulling her close in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it would hit- I was just trying to score! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

"You'll just make her worse if you keep that up!" scorned the nurse, pulling Brittany off of the bedridden girl.

She turned to Santana, who was smiling a little against her will, but winced as a new wave of pain rushed through her head."You'll be fine love, it was just a bad concussion. Give it a day of bedrest, drink this, and you'll be out of here in no time." She gestured to a small glass of deep purple liquid resting besides Santana's head on a nightstand, steaming slightly.

"You may have a bit of a black eye though," she added upon further thought. "And you," She turned her eyes to Brittany, " Had best leave if you want her to ever get better."

"But Madam Pomfrey, can't I stay just a little while?" Brittany seemed to shrink slightly when the older woman turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

"Not tonight, but don't worry, she'll still be here in the morning."

Brittany looked as if she was going to argue, but seemed to think better of it.

"Good night, San. I'm so sorry. I hope the meditation makes you feel better."

Madame Pomfrey looked confused, but Santana just giggled up at the tall blonde girl through heavy eyelids, "It's medicine Britt. And it's alright, I know you were just trying to score."

Once the nurse had ushered a reluctant Brittany out the door and spooned the hot liquid down Santana's throat she waved her wand, instantly extinguishing the lights.

"You know, that girl's sat here for the past day waiting for you to wake up," She said, beginning to close the curtains on all of the beds. "Very loyal friend," She continued, more to herself than Santana, before walking out of the room.

Santana sat in the dark, trying to ignore the pain in her head. Yes, Brittany was a very loyal friend, even if she HAD just accidentally knocked Santana out cold. Had she really sat there all day? The thought simultaneously comforted and unnerved Santana. The last time she had truly trusted someone, he'd left her crying on the pavement and had never come back. Letting people care about her was not one of Santana's strong suits. She could feel the sleep starting to tug at her conscious. Brittany felt safe, though. With that final thought, Santana let her exhaustion pull her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>"You look terrible,"remarked Jenn from her bed, glancing up over the daily prophet propped up on her knees when Santana entered the dormitory the next night.<p>

Santana knew Jenn was right. Her hair was mussed up and the dark shadow of a black eye was clearly forming under her normally caramel skin. Nonetheless she retorted fiercely.

"Remember when you got that mess of zits last year? Who was it that gave you the cream that cleared them right up? Oh right, that was totally me. I could take that back any day you know, and everyone could see just how much your face and the moon's surface have in common. You'd have to be careful, people might try to land spaceships on it or something."

Santana's words had been cruel even by her standards, especially considering that she and Jenn had been friends of sorts for nearly three years now.

The girl looked as though she was trying to come up with a good comeback to hide how much the Latina's words had actually stung, but eventually only came out with, "I didn't mean it like that- I just meant…"

But just exactly how Jenn had meant it was lost in the swooshing sounds of closing bed curtains, and the baffled girl was shut out completely as Santana disappeared behind iron grey sheets. Santana heard Jenn sniff a little through her bed hangings as she pulled off her own robes and began changing into her pajamas. For once she felt a little guilty. She and Jenn had let the friendship they'd cultivated throughout their first, and most of their second year, fade into near near nothingness. Who was Santana kidding? Jenn hadn't changed at all. Santana knew that it was actually she who had pushed the other girl away. She couldn't deny that they'd been a strong pair. At one point, the two could walk through the corridors together and the sea of first years would literally part to give them their own lane to walk in. After Santana had started training for Quidditch tryouts every night the previous year though, things had started to change. Jenn had eventually stopped asking questions when Santana kept slipping into the dorm in the early hours of the morning, sporting a broomstick and an uncharacteristically childish smile. Slowly the weeks had gone by and Santana had started completely tuning out Jenn's usual monologues regarding Rachel Berry's horrid shoes, or how beautiful the sixth year boys were looking that day. Santana's cruel comments had slowly begun to snake around, and suddenly it was not only half of Hogwarts' entire student body, but also Jenn and Jade that were subjected to her biting words. Jenn had been sitting in the staircase with Jade, the place where the two and Santana had taken their lunches for the past year, when Santana had made it clear with blatant finality that she was done with the friendship as they'd known it. As Jenn had taken a bite of her sandwich, tired of waiting, the Latina had walked straight by her for the first time in a year, talking animatedly to Brittany S. Pierce, and continued out the doors of the Great Hall, not once looking back at the girls she'd left behind on the steps. She had never really returned to them after that. Sure, they would still talk sometimes, but it was cold and awkward, and as soon as they had brushed over every obvious surface-level conversation, a heavy, stifling silence would settle over them. Honestly though, Santana didn't mind. The rest of the school didn't necessarily realize that she and Jenn weren't the tight duo they had been before, and most of her peers still seemed to shrink into the walls when she passed by. Santana's reputation was still in tact. The fact that the callous Slytherin now spent most of her free time with with high-spirited Hufflepuff girl may have struck a few, or even many, as strange, but no one would ever have the nerve to say anything about it. And that was just the way Santana liked it.


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It has literally been a year since I've updated this story. For that I'm sorry. I can't guarantee consistent updates due to the nature of my life right now but I'd be surprised if it takes this long again. Thanks so much for reading, and reviews are always appreciated:)

Santana started. She had accidentally snapped the quill she had been holding in half with a loud cracking noise. One of the boys sitting in front of her jumped and looked back. After telling him to get back to charming the matchbox in front of him before she hexed him, she began mumbling angrily about how much the quill had cost her. She then turned back to Brittany, who was now looking at her with wide questioning eyes.

"Sorry Britt. Keep going."

The blonde quickly pressed on with renewed enthusiasm.

"Then he asked what I was doing tonight, and of course I said I wasn't doing anything! You don't mind do you? And he's so cute Santana. He says really smart things in class too," Brittany mused.

"No of course. That's great!"

"What do you think of him?" asked Brittany suddenly, catching Santana off guard.

She had been expecting to sit and nod, maybe even throw in some excited faces, but Santana hadn't thought she'd have to contribute her own opinion about the moron in the wheelchair taking her best friend on some kind of weird date.

"I really don't know him..."

"Come on!" Brittany giggled.

"He seems... nice."

The words tasted bad coming out of Santana's mouth, but Brittany didn't seem to notice the effect they'd had on her best friend and had gone back to beaming at a boy in glasses sitting up near McGonagall's desk. He turned at that moment and returned her smile a little shakily. Santana sighed and tapped the matchbox in front of her with her wand. It promptly burst into flames.

* * *

><p>Santana's feet crunched in the midwinter snow beneath her, every little piece sparkling in the moonlight. She looked up at the sky as she walked, her frozen breath coming up in swirls. She'd come out here to clear her head. After flying around the Quidditch pitch for nearly half an hour though, the only clear thing that seemed to have formed was the ice on her broom handle. Finally she'd touched back down and began to walk back towards the castle, shaking slightly of cold. She just didn't understand why she was feeling this way. Brittany had gone on dates with boys and so had she. She hadn't cared before, so why did it bother her so much now? A quick flash of Brittany sitting in the boy's , Artie's, lap by a fire looking at him adoringly before slowly moving in for a kiss appeared in Santana's mind. She angrily kicked a snowdrift sending it up into her face. She'd kissed boys before, so could Brittany! But what did she even see in the kid anyways? Besides his dumb name and his handicapped sweatered physique he didn't even seem that interesting. What was so great about him? She sat down on the steps outside the castle, trying to get her breathing back to a steady place. Brittany was her best friend. She just didn't want to lose her. That was it. She had looked really beautiful that day when she had come down to dinner before her 'date' with Artie. He was lucky. What am I THINKING? Santana was mad again. She's my best friend! A sneaky voice in the back of her head seemed to say it for her. Best friends don't care this much when the other one meets someone they like, they're supposed to happy for each other. So why wasn't she happy? Accepting that she wasn't going to feel better just sitting here, she slowly cracked open the door to great hall and slipped inside. She had snuck around the castle so many times after dark training for Quidditch her second year that she barely thought twice about it now. Narrowly dodging Mrs. Norris, who had never taken to Santana the way she had Brittany, she found herself facing the slab of grey dungeon wall leading to the Slytherin common room. As she walked down the green lit stairs to the velvet common room she saw the top of Puck's persistent mohawk peeking over one of the armchairs. Puck, like her, had grown up a lot since they'd first met. Last year he had gotten taller, less gangly, gained a little muscle mass even. His face had gotten less boyish and scruff had appeared, if patchy, across his visage. One things that hadn't changed though was the strange friendship he and Santana had established through their years in school. Smiling slightly despite herself she sat down besides him.<p>

"Lopez!" Puck started.

"You have GOT to stop doing that!"

"Pansy," Santana chuckled, looking into the fire.

Puck's smile faded as he looked more closely at Santana's profile.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Santana spat out a little too aggressively, upset that her normally stony exterior had cracked and exposed just a little vulnerability.

Puck seemed to hover on the edge of pressing the issue, before accepting defeat. Reaching under the chair he pulled out a large bottle of red smoking liquor he had apparently been drinking before Santana had joined him.

"Is that...?"

"Firewhiskey? Yeah it is," grinned Puck.

"Want some? You look like you might need it."

Santana started to deny that she needed anything before thinking better of it and merely taking the bottle along with a great swig of it.

* * *

><p>"You said WHAT to her?! Oh my god I can't believe you!" Santana was nearly hysterical with laughter.<p>

She and Puck were laying besides each other on the deep emerald rug next to the dying embers of the fire, the bottle of empty fire whiskey tossed aside under the chair, light glinting off the glass. It must have been nearly three in the morning. Puck could barely speak, and he propped himself up on his elbow, giggling like Santana had never heard a boy giggle.

"I know, I know! I have no idea what I was thinking!"

Santana was still laughing when Puck looked down at her.

"You really are beautiful you know, especially when you smile," He said, suddenly serious as he took in every detail of her face.

"You should do it more often."

"Why would I SM-?" Santana began to ask, feeling herself getting upset despite the compliment, but then Puck's lips were on hers. He was kissing her, and she was almost surprised to find she was kissing him back. His body was warm against hers and she could feel the scruff of his face against her own smooth complexion. A quick flash of Brittany and Artie popped into her mind without warning, and as if to fight it off, she began kissing Puck with renewed vigor. He was quickly becoming more heated and was on her in moments, caressing her face, kissing down her neck, pulling at the buttons of her blouse. Santana was suddenly overcome with an inexplicable wave of sadness through the haze of the whiskey as Puck slowly kissed down her stomach, but it gave way when Puck pulled her face towards his own and all she could see and feel was him.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you're okay, San?"<p>

"Yeah I'm fine, thanks," Santana grimaced.

The loud voices of hundreds of students mingled with the clinking of silverware, dishes, and goblets were seriously contributing to her splitting headache. Brittany was sitting besides her at the Slytherin table while Santana played absentmindedly with her scrambled eggs.

"Tell me about Artie."

"Well we spent most of the night in the library. He told me about his family and where he grew up and stuff and I told him all about Lord Tubbington and how I used to collect pink power rangers."

Santana laughed in spite of herself, but the sharp pain in her head made her regret it instantly.

"Then when we said goodbye he showed me this really cool trick where he does a wheelie in his chair!" Brittany said happily.

What had Santana been thinking? The pit in her stomach that had been there since this morning when she'd woken up next to Puck seemed to grow deeper. Brittany had been talking in the library. And watching that boy do stupid wheelchair tricks.

"Then he kissed me on the cheek and told me my eyes were the most beautiful color he'd ever seen!"

"Real original," Santana hissed without thinking, suddenly upset again as she pictured the scene.

Brittany looked surprised and sad that Santana wasn't reacting with excitement.

"I mean, that sounds really nice, Britt."

Santana forced herself to smile, and the girl looked a little happier. Santana didn't understand it. She had slept with Puck. And still, she glanced across to the end of the table where he was talking animatedly with some friends, she felt nothing more than friendly affection for him, and Brittany's news seemed to cut right through her. What's wrong with me she thought angrily, stabbing aggressively at a potato on her plate as her best friend continued to gush about the evening she'd had before.


End file.
